The Orb
by Silvanoshei
Summary: *CH 4 UP* Assassins! ' ?Looking for me?? a cold voice said, and Gahiji felt a prick of cold metal in his gut. Silvanoshei lay, eyes wide open, his face grim and a jagged knife in his hand.'
1. Broken Tears

The Orb 

By: Silvanoshei

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from the Dragonlance series 

Author's Note: This is right after Silvanoshei is crowned ruler of Silvanesti. I just got the third novel in paperback of the War of Souls series and am reading the other two over since it has been a while, so please do not mention anything that happens to Silvan in your reviews

(Silvan: *snort* If there are any…

Author: waaaa *sniff*…I'm doing this for you after all, so show a little gratitude…)

I don't want to know what happens to him from someone else, so please, no spoilers in reviews! As you can see he's my favorite character and I was just reflecting on what I'd be feeling if I were suddenly granted all his responsibilities…  

_The tears of Lorac,_

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,_

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,_

_Minion of evil,_

Who alone had the power 

"Is there anything else to attend to Glaucous?" asked Silvanoshei, striding next to the older, handsome white-clad elf.  They had just returned form Silvan's coronation festival.  Silvanoshei found himself amazed at what had been put together for him on such short notice … yet another example of the speediness of his people. Sitting outside in the huge garden, after the formalities were over and done with, Silvan had enjoyed himself immensely sipping fine, glimmering blood red wine, being introduced to the top court people and watching the elven dancers in wide, smooth skirts glide before him, their jewels glistening in the weak glow of the one moon.

Now, walking down the labyrinth that was his dwelling, Silvan marveled at the beauty of his palace, even though it must have been much lovelier in the days when Solinari shone in the night sky. The soft patting of the rain that had started not to long ago could be heard through the ceiling.  Flames flickered in the elegant, marble brackets upon the walls. The place seemed to whisper, as though trying to tell him something and he couldn't quite catch it. He stumbled slightly for he was still getting used to his new, silken robes that were quite a bit heavier and thicker then what he was used to wearing.  _"Hah… I used to be caked in mud and wearing whatever I could find," he thought smiling bitterly. But he raised his head more determinedly, straightening his robes, and answered his own thoughts,__ "… But that's behind me now…."_

"No, your Majesty.  I will take care of all, no need to worry," came Glaucous's soothing reply, jolting Silvan out of his thoughts. "Please, you are tired my King.  Get some rest," Glaucous's eyebrows lowered in concern as Silvan's head snapped in his direction at his voice.

"Thank you, Glaucous. I-," as Silvan reached his new room.  

"Your majesty needs to break that habit…" Glaucous coughed. 

"Eheh, I suppose so," said Silvanoshei Ruler of Silvanesti, smiling apologetically.

"Good night your Majesty," said Glaucous, folding his hands behind his back and bowing.

"To you as well, Glaucous," replied Silvanoshei, turning his back to him.

His bodyguards, clad in light quicksilver amour, who had been standing quietly at his door, bowed low to him as well, keeping their eyes respectfully low and opened the door.  Nodding to them, Silvan sauntered in.  His servants buzzed around him, bathing him in sweet smelling perfumes, laying out his soft nightclothes and brushing his long, shining silver hair.

            Finally done, his servants left in a flourish of well-practiced bows, and Silvan, lying on his back in his grandfather, Lorac's bed, stared up at the rich, brocade canopy and listened to the rain.  Pushing the sheets down, where they pooled at his feet in a ripple of silk, he stepped down onto the heavily embroidered carpet, depicting his father's and the kirath's defeat of the Dream that crippled and almost destroyed Silvanesti.  When Silvan had first see his chambers, he had been most intrigued with this rug. Dark elves such as his father were never spoken of and the idea of this in the king's bedroom was ludicrous.  _"I suppose, if the deed is great enough, we still honor them…" _he recalled himself thinking.  

Stepping lightly onto the cool marble floor, he leaned against a pillar next to his bed.  Sliding his back down it, his shirt making a soft noise as it went over the polished stone, Silvan sat, slouching, legs spread apart and knees bent with his arms resting on his legs. _"What the hell have I gotten myself into?"_ he wondered.  _"How am I supposed to help my people with this?"_ he questioned silently, gazing around at the luxury surrounding him. _"Maybe I should just give up… like her."_ Silvan's face darkened.  The sarcastic, thin, unruly voices in him came up like a chorus of angry ravens, picking at him, shrieking and flapping their wings in his face. _"Yes, just give up," _they sneered.  _"You're a failure, you'll lead them to destruction. You'll bring something worse then the Dream."_ Pain, doubt, self-loathing, and hatred surrounded him in a tight, dark, swirling mass of sadness and misery. A tear splattered down. Dragging himself up, he hugged the pillar and walked though the double crystal doors to the balcony.  Ivy and orchids decorated the large area, trailing their vines down to dangle in thin air.  

The rain drizzled down, running down his face, mixing with his tears of sorrow, guilt, and pain.  His silver hair hung at his back, each glistening strand bright and luminous, a star's shine in the darkest part of the night.  Griping the railing of the balcony until his knuckles were white, Silvan hung his head and his hair, a silver sheet, cascaded down around him, protecting him from the outside, as tears and rainwater dripped from his chin.  _"Why did they care so much? Couldn't they have cared more about me? I'm their son. It's all their fault!"_ White-hot anger flared up in his eyes. It was them. His parents and their stupid talk about reuniting the elves.  They had stolen his childhood like a twilight thief, prowling in the night.  They had given him sorrow, a gift bound in tears, to replace his stolen innocence. 

Clenching his teeth, he realized that the people he hated were dead.  He'd never be able to tell them what he felt, never be able to strike them… never be able to hug them.  He missed them, he truly did.  Huddled down in the corner of the balcony, his arms wrapped tightly around his frame, he forced himself not to think of them.  He'd never see them again and that was that. He needed to consider what he was going to do about the time here and now. No wasting thought on the past.  How was he going to help his people? _"Well, one things for sure… I'm not going to be like Gilthas… they will not control me!"_ Remembering Kiryn's warning, he frowned.  He didn't know whether to trust him completely, but he did trust him more then General Konnal.  But, then again, maybe Kiryn was jealous of him. _"I can't see why…who would want all this damned responsibility?" _No, Kiryn was not a threat or competitor, therefore, it what he said was most likely the truth. _"So, Glaucous is twisted? Will he betray me? Maybe I should speak to Kiryn more before I make any rash decisions. This could have drastic consequences…" _Pushing himself up by his hands, Silvanoshei stood, pushing his thick mane behind his back.  He was thoroughly soaked. 

Rainwater dripped form the end of his nightshirt as he entered the double doors of his room.  Fastening them securely, he turned to his huge wardrobe, decorated in silver vines and gems that made flowering plants, and sorted through for another outfit, not wanting to call the servants.  It felt good to do something his own anyway.  As well as the fact that they would probably go into a hysterical fit about him being outside, drenched to the bone.  Silvan smiled slightly.  He'd just come from the wilderness and the hands of murderers; a simple rain shower was not going to kill him.  Rain and thunder had always been his companions ever since he could remember.  Breathing in deeply, he summoned up the sounds and feelings of the powerful storm that had basically dropped him here, his homeland, and let them caress his mind, like a lover's fingers. Dropping his clothes in a sodden pile on the floor, Silvan, naked, pulled on his dry satin garments.  Stepping silently into the spacious bathroom, he sat at the edge of the clawed white bathtub and toweled off his rain-soaked hair.  Brushing his silver sheen slowly, while staring into the large looking glass, still thinking about the storm, he saw his mother's face flit in the crystal. Silvan winced and let a tear trickle down his cheek.  Wiping it away, he turned and lay down on his bed. A wave of memories rushed forward upon the shore of his mind.  His mother's eyes, his father's stern face, assassins, darkness and blood whirled together in his head.

_The tears of Lorac,_

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,_

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,_

_Minion of evil,_

Who alone had the power 

Author: All I can say is that you need a serious therapist, Silvan… *sigh* You and me both…

Silvanoshei: You make me all sad in this chapter … waaaa *gulps down anti-depressant pills*

Author: Hey! Share! *grabs for them*

Well, depending on how many times Silvan bashes me over the head, I will probably write another chapter.  How does an assassination attempt sound to you? Please be considerate and review. 

        


	2. Hope and Ash

The Orb 

By: Silvanoshei

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from the Dragonlance series 

Author's Note: Well, I'm back … Silvan is determined to make his acclaim to fame… and I've got a few bumps on my head to prove it. Please enjoy.

(Author: *holding an ice pack to her head* Did you really have to throw the lamp at me?

Silvan: *glare* Work slave.)

II. 

_The tears of Lorac,_

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,_

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,_

_Minion of evil,_

Who alone had the power 

Groggily, Silvanoshei woke to the soft knocking on his door. Sunlight filtered in through the glass and cast sparkling, golden patterns of different shapes on the floor.  A dove could be heard cooing on the knotted willow tree next to his balcony.  __

Sticking his head into his swan-feathered pillow, Silvan wished resentfully, _"I hope that damn bird would shit all over that frickin' person at the door." _Unfortunately, this did not happen. The Knocker persisted. Silvan, in response, put another pillow over his head.  Finally, realizing that Silvanoshei wasn't going to get up to answer, Kiryn opened the door cautiously. Seeing the lump on the bed that was his cousin, he smiled slightly and walked in, his chrisom robes swishing around his ankles. Sitting in the regal, straight-backed chair next to Silvan's large canopied bed, Kiryn asked in a hesitant voice,  "Silvan? It's been about six hours since sunrise.  You should get up and enjoy your kingdom."

"Mhmm…" was the only response.  Sighing, Kiryn leaned forward and prodded his cousin in the back.  The bump did not move. 

"Ah. Well then, I shall send your servants in to make you presentable.  I hope I will see you at luncheon, which we will be having with my uncle … and Glaucous," Kiryn's voice grew cold. Standing up, Kiryn brushed his golden hair out of his eyes, and walked to the door, telling the bodyguards to let the King's servants in as he was going out.  

Hearing the door shut softly, Silvan rolled over, tangling himself more in his jasmine-scented sheets, and stared at the heavy curtains by the window, trying to memorize their folds. All his feelings were muddled together from his confusing night, not to mention he'd gotten only a few hours worth of sleep.  He felt like a jigsaw puzzle, one that had not been solved and from which several pieces were missing. He curled up in a ball and hugged his shaking shoulders, trying to forget the visions he had seen in the night. But then his servants began to arrive, hoisting him out of bed, bathing and clothing him once again, and Silvan was forced to shelve his thoughts.  Finished, Silvanoshei strolled down the white, glassy halls, the jewels on his garment clinking slightly. Every elf, courtiers, servants, lords or ladies, bowed or curtsied his or her finest when they saw him approach. However, Silvan did not acknowledge them and headed to the grand antechamber.  He was to have luncheon with Kiryn, Glaucous, and General Konnal there, a task-messenger had informed him.

            He reached the gold door, carved with detailed murals depicting elves walking among trees and paddling down mellow streams, and the guards outside hastened to open the entrance and announce his presence.  "Announcing his Highness, the Speaker of the Stars, King Silvanoshei," one said in a proud voice, throwing the doors open dramatically, and stepping aside. Everyone in the room that had been sitting stood up immediately and bowed to their king.  Silvanoshei nodded and a servant drew out his cushioned, regal chair.  Swishing his green and gold trimmed robe out of the way, Silvanoshei took his place at the head of the long alabaster table.  The rest sat down after he had taken his seat, folding his hands on the cold table.  The room was decorated with handcrafted vases and on the walls hung paintings of various landscapes.  On a large gold stand in the corner, perched a snowy white hawk that had been in the royal family of Silvanesti for over fifty years. It tilted its head as Silvanoshei sat, blinking its penetrating yellow eyes at him and seemed to know who he was. Silvan turned his attention back to the table and glanced at Kiryn, who gave him a small smile.  

On the other hand, General Konnal looked stonily ahead but Glaucous smiled warming, at him and asked, "Your Majesty, I hope you slept well?" Kiryn looked over at the advisor, clearly displeased that the advisor and mage had even spoken.

Replying politely, Silvan answered, "My sleep was rather unsettling.  I'm still trying to accept the fact of my new status."

Glaucous, whose expression was slightly worried, leaned forward and answered, "Well, I hope your Majesty's health has not been compromised. I really do think-" At this point, Kiryn cut in.

"I do believe that our King is quite alright.  Shall we get down to business?" he asked pointedly. 

"Ah. Yes, Prince Kiryn," Glaucous said, ruffling his feathers, affronted. "The daily report is nothing very eventful.  Your people have, over all, accepted you as the new ruler-"

"By what do you mean 'over all,' Glaucous?" interjected Silvan.

"Well, there appear to be some pockets of resistance who believe that military power is the only way to rule our nation, but these numbers are relatively small…"

Silvanoshei glanced over at Konnal, who facial expression showed that he was only politely curious. _"They are probably just political zealots.  He might have no connection at all but still, I had better keep an eye on him…" _Silvan thought suspiciously. 

"…In fact, the morale among our people has been at its highest for a long time. Another note is that the wasting sickness continues to plague our people.  There have been several other reported deaths," Glaucous continued, "The Senate also has several decrees it would like you to look at your Highness."

"Oh, of course.  And I will need your expertise on those, Glaucous," Silvan replied.

"It would be my pleasure to serve you, my King," said Glaucous flashing a charming smile in his direction.  

The hawk screeched, leaning forward on its perch, eyes narrowed. 

"Do you thirst or hunger your Majesty? Shall we ring for the meal?" Kiryn inquired, slightly shaken from the hawk's interruption.

"Yes, I'm famished," Silvan said agreeably. 

Picking up the sapphire bell next to him, Kiryn rang once. The other pair of doors in the room opened at once.  Several elves in golden-tasseled uniforms set down platter after platter of delicious food.  The table was soon covered with trays full of sweet pastries, brown speckled quail eggs, herb salads with poppy dressing, spicy teas, delicate fruits and a wide assortment of nuts.  Once the servants had shaken out each official's napkin, the four began to pick daintily at their food.  The servants also provided a large rabbit for the hawk, which it munched contentedly.  The conversation was turned to dancing by Glaucous and Silvan totally forgot about his formal duties and responsibilities.

            After the luncheon, Silvan wandered the sweet gardens outside aimlessly.  The bees whizzed about, filling the air with their rumbling humming.  The gray stoned paths seemed to continue for all eternity, their passage filled with wonders.  Silvan strolled slowly, marveling at every leave, gazing raptly down at the silver and gold koi in a large pond from a small wooden bridge, watched the bobbing of the cattails, and listened to the whisperings of the earth. Somewhere chimes sang in the breeze. Passing a large hedge, Silvan stopped at a bench and sat, his robes flowing in an emerald waterfall of silk that blended almost perfectly in with the leaves that surrounded him, and leaned forward, his elbow bent resting on his knee to gaze at a rose. Learning by heart the crinkled of a petal here and the sparkle of a thorn there.  He sang the lyrics of a new ballad to himself under his breath, caressing the flower's velvety petals with his fingertips, teasing it. 

"Do you enjoy our garden, your Majesty?" a voice next to him asked.  Turning in surprise, Silvan found himself sitting next to a crouching young man.  He was dressed in a blue and silver high-necked tunic, his hands covered in earth and the knees of his pants were grass stained. He was stooping over a small orange flowered bush, pruning it gently. 

"Yes, it's lovely. I doubt I have ever been in such a beautiful place," Silvan answered, sitting up straight, curious of the Woodshaper.  Most elves refrained from speaking to their ruler, out of respect of course.  Just a "Yes, sir" or "Is there anything else you require, my King?" accompanied by a bow or curtsy. Silvan found this custom boring and incommodious. 

"Oh, forgive my rudeness your Highness. My name is Amon," said the elf, standing and bowing, dusting off his hands.

"Ah, Amon, you have been a Woodshaper for some time, correct?" Amon signaled that he had. "Then, if you would, tell me what kind of rose this is," Silvan pointed lazily at the flower that now drooped slightly before him.

"That is a Damask rose.  Does your Majesty wish me to gather some of you? I'm sure they would be quite pleasing inside your chambers," said Amon, tossing his head so his long, black, braided hair was flung behind his shoulder, out of his way as he worked.

"Yes, thank you, that would be most kind" Silvan nodded graciously at him.

"I do not believe that I've ever met such a polite Speaker of the Stars before," stated the Woodshaper with a smile. Silvan smacked himself in the forehead. 

"I keep forgetting.  Everyone says, 'You must do this. Not that.' It's all too much to remember in such a short amount of time," sighed Silvan, rolling his eyes. Amon's grin widened.

"You are much like your grandfather. He was a good man, despite what many would say…"

Silvan's head came up. _"What?"_

"You were here when Lorac was Speaker?  But you look about my age…"

"I was.  Oh, yes, everyone says I look young," he said with a half-smile. "But, even Lorac's Dream is nothing compared to the terrible foe we now face," Amon said, his face darkening.

"Of what foe do you speak? We have the Shield that protects us and keeps out all of our enemies!" Silvan said bewildered.  "_Have I not been informed of some crisis?"_

"Your Majesty, the Shield is our enemy," Amon replied, his voice grave. "Look around!  Do you not see how the flowers droop and wilt? This is what will become of our people if we do not strike it down! If we do not, then the Shield will become our tomb." 

Amon's eyes pleaded with him. All of Silvanesti looked at him.  Their hands grasped for him, ripping at his clothes, clawing at his flesh.  They were drowning; the dark waters closing in above their heads, their eyes wild with fear, and then they faded. 

Hope glimmered, a white petal blown away by the wind.  Reaching out Silvanoshei caught it. Then, Time stopped and everything turned to ash. 

_The tears of Lorac,_

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,_

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,_

_Minion of evil,_

Who alone had the power 

Unfortunately, no assassins yet.  But don't worry; they're coming for you, Silvan! BOO! *Jumps out*

Silvan: You are so lame… *yawn* 

Author: waaaa … no one appreciates my humor… *huddles in a corner*

Well, Silvan seems a bit less depressed today… medicine must have worked… Anyways, what do you all think of Amon? I think he's pretty cool (his name means "hidden one" in Egyptian).  Ummm… also, this kinda struck me…

Silvan: Oh gods! Don't tell them that… _

Author: Umm, well, it seemed to me that in some places Kiryn or other male characters were trying to hit on Silvan and were kinda being a bit too protective (Kiryn especially) but…

Kiryn: *faints* … XI

Silvan: YOU'RE RUINING MY REPUTATION!!!!! DAMN YOU!!!! *Starts throwing stuff in the Author's direction* 

Author:  *amidst the hail of objects* … I didn't mean it that way… -_- 

Wanting to wish a Happy Easter to everyone! *Silvan's busy stuffing chocolate eggs in his mouth* 

Author: Hey, that's mine! *Tug, tug* Gimme, gimme!!!

One last note: Thank you for reading my work and a special thank you to those of you who have reviewed already! I really appreciate the feedback and make sure to read it and take your suggestions into account! I'm trying to write about a half a page or so every night, so this fic should come out _relatively_ fast. Lots of love from Silvan and me! ^_^ 


	3. Blood Stains

The Orb: Blood Stains  

By: Silvanoshei

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from the Dragonlance series 

Author's Note: Geez … another chapter… I know all of you are just SOOO happy.  Yea, I really don't have much of a life…

(Author: I hope you're happy Silvan… *work, work*

Silvan: Good little Author…*pat*)

III.

_The tears of Lorac,_

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,_

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,_

_Minion of evil,_

Who alone had the power 

Silvanoshei stared into nothing.  Blackness surrounded him, holding him in her death grasp; icy, pale fingers encircled his throat.  Squeezing. He gasped for air, for life. Hideous visions flooded his mind.  His people were being pulled in.  He could still see their hands grasping for him, struggling desperately in the deep.

_"Help us, please."_

Then flames consumed everything, hungrily devouring everything in sight.  Midnight dragon shadows circled in the sky. Black-clad widows cried. Ghastly faces and bitten words floated around him, like specters. Blood fell like rain. The amber eye stared down at him, never blinking, cold and unreachable as the stars.

_Praise the One._

Silvan stood alone.  His shadow seemed to stretch for miles in the blinding light.  A chorus of one-winged angels screamed. 

_Praise the One._

Silvan shielded his face from the penetrating, piercing beam, anger rising. Who was this to show him such disturbing images? What did they know about the future of the Silvanesti elves? He would not let them make a fool of him or his people. 

_"Who the hell are you and why should I? Where have you brought me?"_

_I am the One. You will kneel down and praise me. _

The light shone fiercer.  Squinting, Silvan made out a figure on a blood red stallion. It was approaching.  

_"No. I will not. Take me back."_

The amber iris of the eye dilated in anger. The figure stepped down from its steed and began to walk towards him.  Silvan, instinctively, tried to run, but his legs had turned to lead, useless to him. His pulse quickened as the figure stood above him.  Its face still in shadow, its hand touched Silvan's temple.  A raindrop splashed into a puddle.  The pain hit him.     

Amon was shaking him harshly.  Silvan's eyes shot open, he lifted his head slightly; sweat was pouring down his face.  He lay crumpled on the ground, his robes ruined. A jagged rock bit into his back. "Your Highness! Your Highness!" Amon was yelling at him.  "Are you alright?! Please wake up!" Silvan moaned and let his head fall back to the dirt. He took great, steadying breaths.  He vaguely heard Amon in the background yelling for help and ordering servants to lift him.  

Kiryn crashed into the hedge, totally out of breath.  _"Where is Silvan?! What the hell happened?" _Skidding to a halt in front of the entrance to the chaotic alcove, Kiryn leaned over, hands on his knees, panting. "Is the King alright?" he finally gasped to the nearest person.  His vision was blurred; hazy as through he was looking through a heat mirage.  All he could make out were several elven healers surrounded the young king, desperately trying to help him.  Then Kiryn collapsed. 

"Both of them at the same instant?" General Konnal's voice rang out sharply in the pearl halls of the palace, his boots clicked on the stone floor as he jogged to his nephew's room with Glaucous at his side, his white robes billowing. "And don't tell me that's some sort of coincidence," the general snapped at his advisor. Glaucous frowned and pursed his beautiful lips. 

"I believe that Prince Kiryn passed out from the heat and dehydration.  He will be fine. The Speaker is a different story."

"What do you mean? Quit speaking in riddles and tell me flat out," Konnal glared impatiently at him. _"Not that I care about that damned Caladon spawn but the people will talk and, because of my position, I could be seen as the focal point of this accident," _he thought bitterly, clenching his fingers into a fist. _"No matter how I try, I can not see why our people place their hopes in a blood line as weak as his.  Even though his grandfather almost destroyed us and his mother is a dark elf, they want him to sit upon that throne. There is no logic in their thinking, none at all." _

Sighing, Glaucous replied to Konnal's earlier demand, "I believe someone contacted him telepathically.  They might have blown out his mind. You see, if a person's magical output it strong enough and they are not careful as to the release of energy when contacting a weaker being, that can be the result.  Sometimes, the person gets over in a matter of hours. Or they can take a lifetime to recover."

"What?" Konnal blinked in astonishment. _"This could solve all my problems… if Silvanoshei was declared unfit to rule then…"_ "You mean **_never_**?"

"Yes. But, let us not take this as good news, for if the people thought that you might have had something to do with it, as you are a competitor for the crown, you could be – disposed of," Glaucous said, looking at his side ways, his eyes flashing. 

"True," Konnal sighed, reminded forlornly of his own mirrored thoughts before.

"At least this way, we can keep the people happy but still have complete control," Glaucous said, motioning to the guards outside Kiryn's room.  

As they entered the room, both lowered their voices, their footsteps now muffled by the thick carpet and tapestries.  Reaching the bed of his nephew, tucked well into his blankets, Konnal's eyes softened.  He reached down to brush back a wisp of golden hair that had fallen into his nephew's face. Kiryn's eyelids fluttered slightly, but he did not awaken.

"Are the healers still with his Eminence, then?" Konnal asked quietly, stroking Kiryn's hair. 

"No.  There is not much they can do.  They do not know what caused his collapse in the first place. You have to remember," Glaucous said, eyes lowered, taking a seat on the corner of the bed, "my powers are still strong and therefore, they probably couldn't detect the telepathic link."

"That explains a lot," the General turned, his warm chestnut brown hair wrapped in a tight ribbon falling over his shoulder, to look at the other elf.  The two stared at each other.

"Are you trying to tell me something Konnal?" came Glaucous's cold reply, his pale green eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth turned down.

"I —." 

Kiryn stirred, twisting his neck on his plump pillows.  Suddenly, he sat blot upright, as though shocked.

"Silvan —," he croaked, his eyes watering. Grabbing the polished silver pitcher on the slender table next to Kiryn's bed, Konnal poured him a glass of wine. Clutching the glass hard, Kiryn drank in huge gulps.  Glaucous leaned forward and patted him on the back. Kiryn recoiled from his touch, spilling several drops of wine on the white sheets and Glaucous's hands returned to his lap. The splotches stayed though, looking more then anything like blood.  

"Ahem," interrupted the General, as Kiryn looked accusingly at the adviser who had put his mask on again, his face was blank and expressionless. Turning, Kiryn looked searchingly up at his uncle, and then rasped out, 

"Where is his Silvan? I must see him.  Where is he? What happened to him?"

"He's in his room, still recovering. You must calm down Kiryn," Konnal said, alarmed at his nephew's behavior. 

"I must see him." Kiryn threw his legs over the bedside and heaved himself up. His eyes widened and he wobbled, falling back on his bed. "Urg… What the hell happened to me?" He rubbed his head, ruffling his hair.

"Are you unwell, Prince Kiryn? Do you require a healer?" asked Glaucous quickly.  

"No.  Please take me to the royal bedroom," Kiryn shaking his head slightly and wincing at the pain.  Looking at Glaucous swiftly, who shrugged, Konnal wrapped his arm around his nephew's waist and helped him up.  Stumbling out of his bedroom, clutching his uncle for support, Kiryn gritted his teeth and made his way to Silvan's room.

The guards opened the doors fluidly at the General's order, staring interestedly at the odd procession of the Prince in his nightshirt, the General, looking worried, and Glaucous, his arms folded imperiously.  Limping in, Kiryn crashed next to his cousin's bed.  

Laying quietly, his glowing hair spilling across the pillow, Silvan's pale face was in the peace of sleep.  Tugging on the coverlet, Kiryn pulled himself half on the bed, patting Silvan's cheek.

"Silvan, wake up! Silvan!" he cried tensely. Silvan did not wake but remained frozen, as distant as a glacier floating far out in deep polar water, lonely, icy, and remote.  __

_"Is it as I thought?  Has his mind been blown out? I didn't think that the blast had been that strong…"_ Glaucous wondered. _"This could seriously jeopardize our plans…"_

 Flopping down on the floor, Kiryn leaned his head and back against the bed frame and let the tears flow. _"Silvan…I know what you saw."_

Darkness and Light battled infinitely, never winning, and never losing.  A sword of frosty quartz and a sword of shadowy obsidian clashing, ringing resounded.  Light finally struck a blow and moonlight trickled into the royal chambers.  But Darkness waited in the corners, brooding and staring haughtily out as Light celebrated her victory for the night.

The room was empty, save for the stirring figure on the bed.  Silvanoshei turned his head on his pillows and opened his eyes slightly. Looking at the circular window in the ceiling, he could faintly smell lilacs. Someone had left the balcony doors open to let some fresh air in.  A swallow called throatily to its mate, hitting crystalline notes, blending with the harp music outside in the corridor. Wincing slightly, Silvan propped himself up on his elbow. _"What the happened to me damn it? How long have I been gone?"_ he wondered, raking his fingers through his hair.  _"Where is everyone?"_

Slipping out of bed, he walked towards the window and touched it with his hand, feeling the smooth cold surface.  He could smell rain coming.  Fireflies hovered, waltzing to and fro in the night breeze, creating their own little stars, calming him slightly.

_"I remember that vision… and Amon getting the healers… I think I passed out after that. But more importantly, who the hell is this 'One God'? Well, I cannot say it has not been an uneventful day..."_  

Closing the double doors, he walked purposely to the bathroom. _"I won't call the servants … no one will disturb me unless I ask for them … I do not wish to be around others tonight, I need to think," _he sighed. Stripping off his clothes, he reached for the shiny iron handle, carved like leaves, on the bathtub, turning on the hot water in a jet.  Seating himself at the edge of the claw-footed basin, waiting for it to fill, Silvan glanced at the clear looking glass.  No visions of his mother came to haunt him this time, just himself, naked on the tub. Closing his eyes, he evoked the images he had seen in the garden.  That eye…  

The Amber swelled over him in a great wave, sucking him into a bottomless whirlpool.  Then, it was the sweltering sun and stinging sand of a desert. Silvan shook his head, blinking cold sweat out of his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he began searching though the wicker basket next to the tub, finding some candles, incense, a fleecy towel, and some bathing oils. Placing the candles in various spots around the room, he reached for the small torch in the bracket beside his bathroom door and lit them silently, as though sending a prayer up to the absent gods.  The steamy water was up to the brim when he lowered himself into it.  Sighing in contentment, he rolled his neck, and reached to pick up the vials of ointments and dumping them in the water, enjoying their sweet, spicy scents. Closing his eyes, he let each muscle in his body relax. After a few minutes, Silvan opened his eyes.  The candlelight flickered and painted the walls a warm gold, soothing his mind.

Kiryn walked the cold halls alone.  No one was about.  The guards were either in their barracks or on duty.  He had slipped out, even though he had promised his uncle he would rest. But he couldn't rest, not with the visions that kept returning to his mind. Hugging his velvety shirt close to him, he tiptoed down the hall.  His reflection looked ghostly in the mirrors on the walls, frail and wispy looking. Upon arriving at the door of the royal chambers, the guards gave him a knowing look and a smile, before parting to let him through. _"Gods, I bet I know the newest rumors that will fly from the courtiers' lips tomorrow…" _thought Kiryn cynically, gritting his teeth _"What perverts…over-assuming busybodies."_ Standing straight, he walked in, ignoring the guards who would most certainly have their ears pressed against the door once he had entered.  Seeing the empty bed, Kiryn heard the sounds of slightly splashing from the criss-crossing bamboo bathroom door.  Silently walking to it, he sat next to the doorframe, curling up into the fetal position, hugging his legs and resting his head on them.  The candlelight shown through the wicker, cutting large triangular beams into the floor. "Silvan?" he asked in a hesitant voice.

Silvan froze. _"Who?"_ "Kiryn?" 

"Yes," came the response. Silvan breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing again. "Don't come in. I'm bathing."

"So I surmised," Kiryn said from around the corner. 

"And was is the purpose of this late night visit, cousin? Besides to see me naked, of course," Silvan snorted. Kiryn did not smile or make any sign that he thought this was humorous.  

"Tell me what you saw."

Silvan turned in the water, sending ripples across the surface. Closing his eyes, he replied shakily, "I saw and heard many things. How do you know?"

"Just, please tell me. I will explain it to you, but I need to hear what you experienced."

Silvan gave a great shuddering sigh and said slowly, "I saw our people drowning … blood … a figure on a horse … and a lidless amber eye." He curled into a tight ball. "Now tell me, why do you ask?"

Kiryn let out his breath slowly. "Because what you have seen is also in my mind."

Silvan's astounded voice rang from the bathroom. "What?!" 

"Yes, but I was only an observer.  I saw you and that figure. I saw you looking at the amber eye."

Silvan stared at the water lapping at his chest, chilled suddenly, and asked vaguely, "What does this all abide?"

Kiryn hugged his legs tighter, and said, "I have no idea."

Silvan watched the candles melt lower and lower, the wax forming smooth waves and the flames glowing.  Tapping his fingers on the side of the tub, he voiced, "Do you think it's some sort of attack or warning? A psychic attack, maybe?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. I think all we can really do is be on our guard, whatever that means," answered Kiryn, shrugging.  

"Kiryn?" Silvan inquired, pulling at a length of his wet hair. "I wanted to ask you something else."

"What?"

"Glaucous.  I trust you and I think you warned me about him for a good reason, I just cannot find one.  He seems to do his job well, he's a likable person, and he's respectful and helpful. What fault do you find within him?"

Kiryn bit his lip and stood up.  Letting his head fall on his chest, his answer muffled, "I do not know. He is all of those but I believe that he is indeed a talented deceiver, but I do not know any more about the nature of what I believe he's hiding or if indeed I am right at all.  I can only tell you to be wary of him.  I doubt he told you, but he tried to put me on the throne. I refused. I deeply respected your parents. And you."

Silvan, mulling this over, said softly, "Thank you."

"I did no more then your father would have," with that Kiryn left, glaring at the disappointed guards outside. 

Silvan rose out of the waters as soon as he heard his cousin leave, rather like Aphrodite from the sea foam, and dried himself with a towel.  Smoky, gray plumes of incense smoke swirled and wrapped around him. Pulling his robes over his shoulders, he went out to the balcony.  Leaning over, his arms crossed on the railing, he looked upon a small group of birds-of-paradise, their purple buds shining with silver dew.  Everything was still now; even the late night harper had finally gone to bed.  Silvan sighed and closed his eyes, then returned to his room. 

A shadow quivered in the darkness.  A piece of night had fallen from the sky.  A hooded stranger fingered a golden knife and ran a thumb up the blade.  Blood dripped down and splatter to the earth. A one-winged angel cried in the night.

_The tears of Lorac,_

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,_

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,_

_Minion of evil,_

_Who alone had the power             _

**Author's note:**

Wwooo!!! A BATH scene… *author sniggering in her corner* 

Silvan: *eye roll* I won't dignify that with a response…

Well, I just finished watching the X-1999 movie… and that has to be the most depressing movie I've ever seen…

Silvan: *permanently scarred for life now* *blink*

Author: Ehe…

Well, the only thing that makes it better is that I can picture Kamui drop kicking Fuma's head of the Tokyo Tower! Hee!

Silvan: *backs away slowly* You have the weirdest sense of humor…

I was at Borders yesterday and, of course, was looting through the Dragonlance section.  There are so many awesome books! I think I should probably read some more authors' works since I've originally just stuck with Weis & Hickman. Any suggestions? But, anyways, I got a new book that's totally about Raistlin (he's SO cool too, but it makes me kinda sad when people write slash with him…and that's about all the Raistlin fics you can find…depressing), called Soulforge.  If anyone's read it, tell me if it was good (but NO spoilers, please!).  Still, it'll take me a while to get through the other two War of Souls books… 

I'm at such a depressing part in _Dragons of a Fallen Sun_ for Silvanoshei lovers, neeeeee. Gods, I hate Mina.  Just wondering, is there anyone who actually **_likes_ **Mina? (Mina: *cheesy heroine music in background* I'M A CHILD OF BATTLE, A CHILD OF WAR— 

Author: *raised eyebrow* A child on steroids?) 'Cause she has annoyed me from the beginning, even before she started screwing with Silvan's mind … and hormones…*eye twitches* 

Author: Get a clue Silvan!

Silvan: HUH? *goo-goo eyed for Mina*

Author: *waps him with keyboard*  … and after all this… *sigh*

Well, hope you are all still enjoy the fic! Thank you again for the reviews! More Silvanoshei goodness to come! I promise more action next chapter!


	4. The Fruit of the Dead

The Orb: Fruit of the Dead 

By: Silvanoshei

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from the Dragonlance series 

Author's Note: Back for round four, eh?

I'm SOO happy! We actually had a thunderstorm today! *happy dance* So, I just sat outside in the rain for a while and thought about – Silvan…yea, I'm pathetic... I also got a new smelly candle! I LOVE them! This one's called Rainbreeze… no need to tell you who it reminded me of … ehe … yea

(Silvan: Next you know it, she'll be buying posters and models of me…

Author: *drool* THERE ARE POSTERS?!

Silvan: *steals her Chai tea* WORK! *gulps it* 

Author: waaaaii! *sob* *tug, tug*)

IV. 

_The tears of Lorac,___

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,___

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,___

_Minion of evil,___

_Who alone had the power_             

Like greedy ravens, two shadows crouched low on the ground. Their black cloaks billowing, the dew had soaked the hems, as they hid from the inattentive guards, pressed against the earth, smelling the fresh scent of grass.  Night was their companion and Silence, their guide. A blossom of blood pooled in the soil next to them, neither soaking in nor taking root.  

"The Earth refuses to accept our blood," whispered one, his lips smiling cynically, before pulling out a dagger and flipping it for practice. It was a custom, the drawing of thy own blood before the killing of an enemy.  All elven assassins preformed it.  It was probably some old ritual, a part of a spell for an ancient, forgotten magic, but no one really knew for sure.  Maybe it was a protection against the wrath of some distant deity, for, of course, elves were supposed to honor life, not take it.  Elven assassins were hated beyond most things, even including ogres, by their own kind. The other figure gripped his companion upon the shoulder and began whispering, his gray eyes closed, _"Arda, Súl, Nar, Nen.  Tir-met, argarwaen alqua, met dín, lómë lokës caltelperin." _Sending their final prayers up to the empty heavens, the bloodstained swans moved into the cover of the birch and cypress trees.

After fleeing to the bushes, Gahiji checked over his weapons one more time, making sure everything was in place. Crouching here in the bushes, ready to murder his king and betray his country, he still was not sure if he was making the right decision.  _"What if they are right? Those optimistic ones dancing in the street throwing blossoms for their king? Am I making the fatal mistake here? Will my actions, this night, lead all of Silvanesti to ruin?"_ Feeling panic rise in him, overflowing the boundaries like a gorged river, he closed his eyes, holding his medallion so hard it cut into his hand, and raised his head skyward.  His heavy hood fell down and his long length of ebony hair fell down, fluidly over his back, curling on the ground. Opening his golden eyes, he looked at the moon, craving its every crater into his mind, its clear shin alighting his features and the tattoo that swirled up his left cheekbone and onto his forehead, above his eye.  He heard a nightingale call out in the night, and his moment of peace fell away like shattered glass.  Now was the time. He answered the mimicked call and moved closer to the balcony.

Gahiji easily leapt up over the balcony railing, his feet making no sound upon the marble, and ducked down, into the cover of darkness, waiting for Ormand to come.  A shadow crossed over seconds later.  Nodding to him, Ormand crept up to the door, and opened his hand.  A white, shimmering ball of light, a faultless pearl of energy, was cradled in his slender fingers, lighting his face eerily. He opened his hand further and pushed the ball into the key hold, and both heard a click, disarming both the metal and the magic.  Smiling slightly, Ormand gave the door an experimental push.  The door opened silently. Ormand stretched out his hand once more, facing his palm four different directions and closed his eyes, concentrating.  "No other spells," he whispered, shrugging and ducked in.  Taking a deep breath, Gahiji followed. Ormand sidled up to the closest side of the ornate bed and jerked his neck in the other direction, indicating that Gahiji was supposed to go around.  Ormand reached to his side and drew his dagger, his eyes reflected in the blade. Gray starlight.

Gahiji slid over the floor, a panther in the deepest, thickest forest.  His eyes watched for any movement, noting every object. Stopping at the corner of the bed, all he could hear was the Speaker's gentle breathing.  He moved along the edge of the bed, his back against the folds of the silken covers.  Drawing his own dagger, Gahiji fingered the griffon-headed hilt, running his fingernail over the ruby jewel that made the eye.  The griffon was screaming, its feathered crest raised and mouth open, but whether it was from anger or pain, Gahiji did not know.  Standing up suddenly, Gahiji raised his hand and prepared to strike.  The dagger gleamed with the crystal moonlight, molten quicksilver.    

"Looking for me?" a cold voice said, and Gahiji felt a prick of cold metal in his gut.  Silvanoshei lay, eyes wide open, his face grim and a jagged knife in his hand. "I can pull out your entire intestines with one twist …put the dagger down. Now." The griffon dagger fell to the ground, metal clattering on stone. 

"Well, Your Majesty, you must have the ears of a fox to have heard us…" Gahiji said appraisingly, smiling bleakly.  The flames of failure burned in his abdomen. His lips were suddenly parched. _"Well, no matter that I was worried about killing my King … he seems quite well prepare … but still…Ormand." _A flicker of movement caught Gahiji's eye. Ormand was creeping over the bed, his hand clutching his knife; the serpent was coiling its smooth green scales, and raised its head to strike.

Silvan looked up into the face of his would-be-assassin, noting the man's eye movements.  He had not come alone.  Samar had always taught him to be prepared.  Silvan's right fist clenched the two smaller throwing knives he held under the covers.  Darting his head to the right, he aimed for the other's throat, hitting his mark true. The corpse slumped to the floor, blood dripping down his neck, the knives still imbedded deeply in his air passage. His eyes were blank, a desolate desert in which nothing lived. The other assassin swallowed with difficulty. Silvan shut his eyes, and breathed, but then opened them a second later, a bright, glowing crimson. Slowly, he got up, poking the assassin in the stomach. "Move," he said curtly. Picking up the silver bell by his bedside table, Silvan rang it once.

Racing in, his bodyguards pulled out their swords and led the assassin to a sealed room, and took out the body of the other, apologizing endlessly and seeking their King's forgiveness.  They also summoned a healer to check if Silvanoshei had any wounds and a mage to put up a temporary stronger blocking spell.  Finally, at his orders, they left him in peace. Silvan slid down to the floor, shaking, curling into a ball. _"Why? Why must they? Why do they prey on the weaker?… I'm so tired. Tired of struggling.  I feel like I'm caught in a spider's web. I can't move …  I'm slowly being eaten." _

"My gods, your Majesty! How did you survive? We will need to add extra security right away! Guards and spells and —" Glaucous rambled on.  Silvan sighed, his eyes half-closed, his elbow bent on the table; chin resting on the palm of his hand.  Not bothering to listen, he caught Kiryn's eye and looked meaningfully at him. Kiryn almost undetectably nodded once.  

The room they were now in had once been Lorac's tactical planning room from the days of the Dream and Bloodbane. A dignified and Romanesque style preceded the place, with its large pillars, painted dome and open spaces. Maps and trophies decorated the walls and various corners of the room. A shinny helm and suit of silver owned the place of honor, near the center of the dome. 

Turning to Konnal, Silvan interrupted Glaucous's rant about lazy guards and asked, "Well, General, what do you think of all this?" _"That is the trick… to test him. And then keep picking at him till he squirms…I swear he had **something** to do with this…" _

"I regret that we were ill prepared for this attack.  I will make sure to post additional guards and I believe that it is wise to not allow your Majesty to leave the palace till we have determined it is safe."

_"Slimy serpent.  How predictable…" _Politely, Silvanoshei replied, "And I expect that this will be a very long time General, as long as you are in control and not I, the true king." 

The silence was getting oppressive. Clearing his throat, Konnal leaned forward, "I believe my King has misunderstood my intentions. If you would be so kindly as —"

"No, General. I will not be hid away like a weak child. What will my people think of me? And I believe that I have understood your intentions very well. Too well." Silvan looked him squarely in the eye.  

"Ahem," Glaucous coughed.  "My King, I second the General's suggestion.  It is a wise precaution your Eminence.  We simply cannot afford to take any risks with your life, especially since you have returned to us so amazingly—"

"And you would confine me to my chambers? Not allowing me to part take in the everyday affairs of my kingdom?" interrupted Silvan, furious. 

"Your Majesty, let us not forget that the House can overrule you in any decision you make if they feel you are erroneous in your judgment," Kiryn spoke softly from the edge of the table. Silvan swallowed and took a deep breath. Addressing the General and mage, he said in a calm, easy voice, 

"There is no need to ban me to my quarters. As you could tell from last night, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself if necessary.  I agree that we do need to tighten security, and that I should not be allowed to exit the palace, but please, do not ban me from helping my people." Looking at each other, slightly dumbfounded, Konnal nodded and Glaucous shrugged and smiled. 

_"Diplomacy does work…"_ thought Silvan, smiling a little himself.    

After settling the details of the extra spells and guards, the Speaker rose, gracefully walking out of the meeting room, his majestic sapphire robes snapping in private triumph behind him.  The remaining group dissolved quickly, seeing to their duties. 

Stepping out the glossy golden door to the garden, Silvan ignored everyone and went to search in the rose hedges. "_Well, in the meantime, I can go out and see Amon.  Wonder why he hasn't brought me my roses yet?"___

"Ah, your Majesty!" Amon said happily, putting down his tools and standing up to greet Silvan. After inquiring after his roses, Amon nodded in regret.  "Yes, I do apologize my Lord. No one except the highest-ranking officials were allowed to visit you after your accident. Would you like them now?"  Thanking the Woodshaper and inviting him to give him a tour of the gardens, the King sincerely enjoyed his visit. 

"I also wanted to tell you, Amon, I'm gaining more respect from General Konnal and Advisor Glaucous. They are finally allowing me to go over some of the kingdom's business and actually get involved," Silvan informed the gardener, who's face had broken into a smile. "I have also," he added in an undertone, as they passed under some hazelnut trees, "given thought to your warning about the shield." Amon's face grew serious.

"Your Majesty has surely seen now its devastating effects," Amon replied, his face waning. 

"Yes," Silvan said in a deadened tone, "it eats us alive. Everyone is grim and tired.  Our hearts beat a little slower each day, our wings fade as those of a dying butterfly. I believe that it must come down, the hard part is convincing the House."

"I have faith that you will succeed."

"Sometimes faith is not enough." 

__

Hidden among the wide, branching pomegranate trees, surrounded by red snapdragons, Kiryn sat on a mossy rock, waiting for Silvan.  Listening to the birds chirp, he let his mind wander, picking at the trimmings of his robes. _"Why would anyone try to assassinate the king? What would that solve? It would make things even more complex…Fools. Is that why Silvan wishes to meet with me? I wonder… does he seek my counsel? If that is the case, I think I should arrange a meeting between myself, Silvan and Rolan of the kirath.  He is a wise, honorable person, Silvan will do well to seek his advice." _Reaching out, Kiryn gently pulled a fat, dull pink pomegranate off a branch, the leaves quivering above him.  Splitting open the fruit carefully as to avoid staining his robes with the juice, Kiryn pulled out a few plump seeds.  His tongue rolling over them, they exploded in sweet, succulent tartness, like little fireworks for the senses.  The living consumed the fruit of the dead. 

_"Damn them, these elves. I hate them, I HATE them!" _Cyan Bloodbane screamed to himself, almost spitting with rage. _"Let them rot in hell, they are a hex, an insidious plague. I could just tear them into shreds, let them moan for their wives and children and parents and siblings in a river of rich blood and gore," _he thought, his eyes half-lidded and licking his lips_._  But, shaking his head slightly, he frowned. Pulling open his robes slightly, showing a perfect, smooth chest, his fingers traced over the pendant he always wore. _"If only… But, no, it is much more pleasurable to torment them this way.  I know my master; Raistlin Majere gave me this pendant for a very good reason and I will continue to keep my promise of loyalty to him even from his grave. Besides, sucking away their life force, while allowing them to call me their savior is possibly the best and most amusing revenge I could have. Ha! What fools!  Even Konnal, even he is becoming the man they all detest and blame.  Lorac. Yes…" _The wolf in sheep's clothing, sat down, taking a break from pacing around his office.  Smiling sardonically, he kept up his internal monologue, _"Yes, Lorac. He wasn't as easily overcome, as some might not believe. But, with a little persuasion through both pain and pleasure, he became mine forever." _Chuckling softly, Cyan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. _"And now, who should walk through the door of my night kingdom, but his grandson?  And I would be very rude indeed if I did not provide this new Caladon with the same gracious treatment as his grandfather…"_ Sighing, he closed his eyes, head resting on the hands behind his neck._  "Oh, I'm looking forward to this…" _

_The tears of Lorac,___

_Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,___

_Minion of Queen Takhisis,___

_Minion of evil,___

_Who alone had the power             ___

**Author's Note: **WAAI! What a disturbing lack of reviews… I'm feeling another depressing chapter coming up… *sobs, and uses Silvan for a tissue*

Silvan: ACK!! LEMME ALONE!!!

Author: *huddles in her corner and cries*

I've also actually been sketching some pictures of Silvan (and Gahiji!) just because they aren't any… boohoo. And they really aren't that bad, I've been drawing since I can remember and attended several art schools and painted, so it's not like the evil fanart that you wince at when you see it… wish I had some way of posting them too…  

**Notes about the Story:** For those of you who do not read Greek mythology (and you should!) the fruit of the dead, a pomegranate, comes from the story of Persephone, daughter of Demeter (goddess of vegetation/grain) and Hades.  When Hades kidnapped Persephone to make her his queen, he had her eat a pomegranate seed so she would have to return to him in the underworld for half of the year, creating a Fall and Winter, for then Demeter grieves for her daughter and makes the world grow cold and barren. 

The words Ormand speaks in the first part are Tolkien's Elvish.  I borrowed a book about it from my guy friend and just added some in this because I thought it was interesting.  I desperately hope that no one who reads this knows any Elvish because it's probably horrid grammar.  My sincere apologies. I only had the book one night and I didn't have time to learn any stuff about sentence structure or anything. Here's what it was _SUPPOSED _to say: "_Earth, wind, fire, water. Watch over we two bloodstained swans, we two silent, dusk serpents, to shine silver-like"___

By the way, "Gahiji" means "hunter" in Egyptian and "Ormand" means "serpentine" in Welsh. I absolutely love making the names mean something for the character…  

Just a poem I wrote, dedicated to Silvanoshei-

_Throwing sparks at my frozen angel _

_Gathering the words to coax the fire to start_

_Words to melt your pretty heart_

_The ice that coats your beautiful body, seals my soul_

_My frozen angel… _

_Your crystal wings refuse to flutter_

_Eyes, a silver that will never awaken _

_Eternity keeps us apart_

_My love for you will never fail_

_My frozen angel…_

Please review, you have no idea how much it means to an author…. thank you.


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